“The French President Timéo Comtois spoke loudly at the United Nations forum yesterday, along with the rest of the Western European League, expressing his disapproval of the United States regarding the Alagore Bridge. The WEL has not been the only bloc that has condemned USAM for its actions; the Iranian-Russian alliance, the Indian Republic, and the Türkiye Empire have also condemned it. However, they were the only ones who demanded the outright destruction of the portal between worlds. The other nations have either remained vague in their threats or stated that the alien device should be transferred to an international organization for the benefit of all humanity, a proposal that the White House rejected.

  The surprising response came from the IRA, or lack of one. The French and Indian governments requested their support for a joint resolution, which they refused, stating that until more information had been brought forward, no declaration should be made.

  Regarding USAM allies, they have all declared their full support for the American cause. Many have stated they are providing logistical support, while restating the technology transfer clause within the USAM treaty. While no nation has outright stated, there have been rumors that England, Canada, and Japan have deployed Special Forces to safeguard the other side of the Bridge, with Australia currently in negotiations with the Administration. This has angered many nations, especially the WEL, Türkiye, and Indonesia – being regional rivals to USAM allies.” - Daily Carton Updates

  May 8th, 2069 (Military Calendar)

  Highway 2 "Amesrane", the former Confederacy of Daru'uie

  Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

  *****

  Ryder watched the portable screens displaying the 1st Battalion’s assault on the Aristocracy position. Some cycled through helmet cams, others streamed overhead drone footage showing the battle’s progression.

  The enemy fought valiantly, slowing the American advance. Well-entrenched and quick to bunker, they forced the 5th Infantry to clear each strongpoint by force. One by one, the forts fell—blown apart by grenades, missiles, or direct cannon fire—all leading to a final looming fortress.

  Not all progress was slow. A narrow valley with a highway showed rapid gains. A Campbell light tank platoon supported an advancing company. Enemy forces bombarded from the ridgelines—until the tanks returned fire and silenced them.

  One drone briefly glitched—its feed distorted by a flicker of mana interference. A tech dismissed it as background noise.

  "Looks like they’re going to break through," Natilite observed. "Maybe I underestimated the Lieutenant Colonel."

  "Maybe," Ryder muttered.

  The Battalion was pushing through. In the forested flanks, superior missile systems, precision artillery, and synchronized air support dismantled bunkers in sequence. Company-level battles erupted beneath the trees, forcing brutal close-quarters fighting.

  With Buffalos and IRiSS pressing into the treeline—the only armor capable of maneuvering there—the Aristocracy finally broke, initiating a full retreat.

  "See, Duke," Conrad said smugly. "They’ve got shiny sticks, but they can’t match modern hardware."

  Three companies pressed forward, hounding the retreat. It looked like a victory, but Ryder’s instincts screamed otherwise. The battlefield was too clean. Too easy. It didn’t feel right.

  Why hadn’t the Aristocracy deployed armor? Their mobility would’ve dominated the forested hills. And where was the Unity?

  "Did you see that, Matt?" Natilite pointed at a screen.

  Ryder leaned in. American troops were turning, firing into the woods behind them. Explosions rocked the valley. The crossfire instantly destroyed a Buffalo. A Chappell was left burning. The Infantry stopped their advance and hastily formed defensive rings.

  A staff officer relayed that a Phantom drone had detected movement from two impossible directions. Enemy formations were flanking them.

  "How the hell?" Conrad snapped, blankly staring at the main screen.

  "It’s the Unity," Natilite said grimly.

  "Air assault?" Ryder asked.

  "Impossible," McKee replied. "4th MDTF’s has been on full alert for that. Unless they’re cloaked, we would have detected them."

  "Nat?"

  "I have never seen stealth on Unity airships," she answered, hands on her hips. "But the Coalition never had full air dominance before."

  "Then not an air assault," Ryder concluded. "So what?"

  "They hid an army and slipped it past my scouts?" Conrad growled.

  "It has to be a Portal then," Natilite snapped.

  "A what?"

  "Short-range transporter. Unity tech. I have seen those Orgat-type air-dropped them. Maybe this time, a walker transported it by ground?"

  "And we missed it?" McKee asked.

  “Walkers can navigate this rough terrain,” Ryder explained. “They are not limited to roads like our vehicles are. They could have been there for days waiting for us.”

  "And you’re telling me this now?" Conrad shouted. "You withheld that?!"

  "I cannot predict every tactic!" Natilite shot back. “And I tried to warn.”

  "She warned you," Ryder said coldly. "In return, you mocked her. Now your arrogance might cost us the first annihilated battalion on Alagore."

  Conrad seethed. Ryder turned away, listening as a Major requested the Minutemen eliminate the portals to allow retreat. As confirmation came in, Comanche broke from the CP.

  *****

  Ryder briefed the other Combat Teams. Their mission is to locate and destroy the Unity portals. Missile artillery was being rerouted. Once understood, the teams scattered into the woods.

  Comanche advanced. Gunfire echoed through the trees. Radio chatter worsened by the second. The retreating Aristocracy had turned—now smashing into American flanks. Reinforcements from 1st IBCT were en route, but delayed.

  "Comanche-Lead," McKee’s voice crackled over DEFNET. "Oracle’s found a portal. Transmitting marker."

  "Roger," Ryder replied. He turned to Higgins. "How far?"

  Higgins flipped through a cluttered MGRS map, scowling.

  "Problem?" Barrios asked.

  "Try reading these," Higgins muttered. "Half the data is missing, the other half is wrong. I know the Army wants these as quickly as possible, but quality matters. Unless you want to end up in Kentucky, keep talking."

  After finding their bearings, Comanche rendezvoused with one of their sister Minutemen Combat Teams, Ghost, and the two navigated through the tense forest. The environment was rough, eating up much-needed time as everyone could hear the battle raging on the other side of the hellish ridges.

  During their travels, Comanche noticed smoke up ahead. This was confusing as the battle was elsewhere, causing the two Minutemen teams to investigate. They were expecting an enemy camp, but what they stumbled upon shocked everyone. A blackened village. Smoldering ruins. Corpses decapitated, charred, with the majority being Nekos.

  "What the hell happened?" Fraeya whispered.

  "A cleansing," Natilite said coldly. "Unity’s been here."

  "Why wipe out a village?" Higgins asked.

  "Wrong question," Forest said. "This was a message."

  "Cartels did the same," Barrios muttered. "Slaughtered civilians who helped us. It warned everyone to stay away from us or else."

  "I remember that Mexican Squad?" Wallace added. "Cartels killed their families."

  "That is horrible..." Fraeya breathed.

  "Where are the kids?" Ford asked. "I only see adults here."

  Natilite knelt next to a corpse, covering her mouth from the fumes. She placed her hand close to the rotting body to honor their memory. “They take the kids because they are easier to indoctrinate. They also take anyone who can be used. Everyone else, murder. That is the Katra, and who we fight.”

  Higgins wandered around with angry eyes. “Those Uptopian bastards are going to pay for this.”

  "It wasn’t them," King said, pointing to a scorched symbol. "Matches Horatius's report. Vampires."

  “That is the Tourmaline Prepotency banner,” Natilite commented as she stood. "Kallem and Illythia Houses hate each other. Why would she be here?”

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "War makes strange allies," Gonzales muttered.

  Ryder noticed Gonzales picking up a propaganda flier by one of the corpses. The medic then handed it to the Captain and what he saw shock and frustrated him. It bore House Ryder’s seal. Promised freedom. Benefits. Pledges of loyalty.

  "Sorry, Matt," King said quietly.

  The realization that the reason this village was massacred was because his people dropped fliers here, and these people expressed interest in switching sides. In return, they were murdered before his people even knew. All because his name was featured prominently on American flyers.

  Ryder felt the weight of it like a stone in his chest. These people had hoped for freedom—and died for it. "When the General said he was using my name," he murmured, "he wasn’t kidding."

  "Not your fault," Natilite said.

  "Doesn’t matter. Americans are dying. We need to move."

  "Ford," Barrett said, "drop a digital beacon."

  "Why not a marker?"

  "Too far from the net," Higgins replied. "If Coeus gets taken out, the marker’s gone."

  "What’s Coeus?" Fraeya asked.

  "Balloon drone. GPS substitute. Not great, but it works."

  Ford tossed a black box into a ruined wagon. As it activated, plasma bolts exploded around them. Unity patrol. The Minutemen dove for cover.

  "Comanche, this is Major McKee. Oricale says there are new contact—unknown class—moving fast."

  "Define 'fast'," McKee barked.

  "Ghost, can you handle it?"

  "We got it," Miller replied calmly.

  As Ghost engaged, Comanche flanked wide to get around the Unity patrols. Their mission was to destroy the Portal quickly so their people could retreat. And with the battle sounds swelling in the distance and DEFNET being in chaos, they were running out of time.

  "I’m back on Coeus," Higgins reported. "Oracle confirms—we’re close. Samurai and Redcoat destroyed their portals."

  "Of course they did," Wallace muttered.

  "Redcoat probably apologized first," Barrios quipped.

  "Upload markers to Ford," Ryder ordered. "Sergeant, take point."

  They pushed ahead. Ryder watched the lagging drone feed. Unity pressure centered on the Battalion. Their flanks were thin.

  Resistance was light. Silencers and Natilite’s blade cut the rest.

  At the ridge, two Unity sentries—an orc and a dark elf—watched the valley. Fraeya readied to collapse the slope, but Ryder signaled hold. Wallace and Barrios crept forward.

  A whistle—like a birdcall—distracted the sentries. The Twins struck silently.

  Comanche reached the ridge. Below: a portal camp. Two walkers—one transport, one amplifier—flanked a glowing ring of pulsing runes. Troops poured through, shadows warping as they crossed dimensions.

  A trap.

  Everything—the bunkers, the highway—was misdirection. The real deployment came here, cloaked by the amplifier.

  Ryder spotted a seated mage on the walker.

  "Forest. Natilite. That’s your target."

  They got into position. Natilite assembled her M66 anti-material sniper rifle while Forest prepared the range finder. The two then got into position as the Valkyrie's bird-like eye focused on the massive glowing orb.

  “Fire when ready,” Forest said.

  The Templar pulled the trigger, and the .50 caliber sniper rifle recoiled with a powerful recoil. The first bullet impacted its target, causing a giant crack. With the next shot, the section of the orb facing them shattered, disabling the amplifier.

  With the Unity defenses destroyed, Comanche opened fire. At first, the Crusaders were confused, with many seeking cover while others firing blindly into the surrounding terrain. However, it didn’t take them long to discover their location. Heavily hostile fire volleyed into their position, but they held.

  For a moment, everything seemed fine as Comanche was in the superior position. They had taken the enemy entirely by surprise and were scattered. Being on a ridge, the Crusaders couldn’t mount a direct assault. That was until they spotted fire hostiles flying through the sky, heading to flank them.

  When they landed, these flying creatures, towering owl-like beasts with antlered and armored bodies woven from bone, bore human faces as their only resemblance. They wielded reversed elecprobus spears that crackled with lightning—predators from another world. A label displayed on the Comanche Captain, calling them Kipine.

  And that was when they charged toward Comanche.

  "Fraeya!" Ryder shouted.

  The ground shook as their Elf mage casted a spell. Two Kipine were buried. A third dodged, charging—impaled by a spike. The rest held their positon, suppressing the Minutemen team with their staff weapons.

  Natilite vaulted forward, bisecting one midair. Another flew, shot down mid-flight. Barrett and Gonzales skewered the last two.

  With the flanks clear, Ryder focused forward. The Unity infantry still traded fire below.

  "Higgins?"

  "Standby... Tonbokiri incoming."

  Forest marked the portal. Moments later, an M244 missile struck. Mana erupted. Forest and Gonzales were thrown back.

  Secondary detonations ripped through the valley. Crusaders died—burned alive or engulfed in raw mana. White, yellow, and blue flames roared.

  "How’d that feel!" Higgins yelled.

  "I bet they didn’t expect that," Barrios grinned.

  Cheers followed. The portal was gone. The flank was secured for the American Battalion to retreat.

  "Alright, Comanche," Ryder ordered. "Fall back to Battalion CP."

  They disappeared into the trees.

  May 8th, 2069 (Military Calendar)

  In route to Iriskia, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie

  Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore

  *****

  Hearing the deafening roar of the aircraft thrusters, Assiaya clutched her seat, fear tightening her grip. Her heart raced—not just from the noise, but from being in the air, in a machine she barely understood, without her father beside her. It was her first time flying in one of these strange metal airships. The bulky headphones tangled some of her hair, and the built-in radio occasionally blasted voices at uncomfortable volumes. The only relief they offered was muffling the thrusters.

  "Don't worry, kid," Murphy said. "We’re almost there."

  "Are all your airships like this?" Assiaya asked, trying to mask the quiver in her voice.

  Combat Fire Team-Viking chuckled at her discomfort.

  "First time?" Graham grinned.

  "I flew once with my former master on a dragon," Assiaya said. "It was raining."

  "Well, this one’s louder," Murphy said. "Arctic winds shake us up, but nothing this bird can't handle."

  "You should stop worrying," the voice said.

  "How can you be this calm?" Assiaya thought. "We are not meant to fly."

  "You might not be," the voice replied. "I cannot remember feeling so much at peace."

  The Puuku cargo VTOL reached Iriskia, escorted by four drones and an AH-45 Cheyenne II helicopter. Assiaya marveled at the speed. Compared to dragons or trains, this was miraculous. Journeys that once took days now pass in hours.

  Outside her small window, smoke drifted over Iriskia. Drones hovered like they were predators seeking prey. As the VTOL descended, two escort drones flanked either side.

  Once landed, Viking unclipped their restraints. Assiaya fumbled until Captain Murphy came to her aid. As they exited, the rear thrusters blasted wind, forcing her to hold her dress.

  Waiting on the tarmac was Captain Smith, Hackett’s assistant. With her stood four farians, including Chieftain Isrika and Kreito. Two others wore leather armor and carried spears.

  "Your Highness," Isrika greeted. "It is an honor to meet again. Especially today."

  "The honor is mine," Assiaya said. "Thank you for aiding in the city's liberation."

  Kreito glanced at the aircraft. "We cannot compete with the Altaerrie."

  "Showing unity is equally important," Smith added.

  "We are honored to be at your side," Isrika said. "But I wish to discuss our agreement."

  "After meeting with the remaining nobles," Assiaya said. "I will honor my father's word."

  "Then let’s get going," Smith nodded.

  Assiaya walked between the Minutemen onto the broken red-gray bricks of Iriskia. American soldiers swept the city. Males were forced outside, patted down, and buildings inspected.

  She recalled stories from her enslavement—captured cities often began with executions and looting. Yet, here there was no purge, no plunder.

  "Captain Murphy," she asked, "why are they checking stores? I do not see anyone looting?"

  "Because looting is illegal under U.S. military law," Murphy replied. "They’re checking for weapons, hiding people, spies, traps."

  "And we don’t want a rebellion over stolen goods," Smith added. "We want cooperation."

  "I see," Assiaya said. "That is wise."

  With Salva reclaimed, the Aristocracy and Unity retreated. Iriskia, once a staging ground. When the Americans had recovered some strength after being driven off this world, they went on the offensive. While this city wasn’t as large as Salva, it was the next logical target. When the battle began, they resisted for five days before surrendering.

  The city bore scars: shattered walls, cratered streets. Very few buildings were left unscathed as the glass was broken, roofs collapsed, and structures were burnt to the ground. It was precisely as Salva had looked during the early days of the siege.

  As the Princess absorbed the level of destruction, she was surprised how calm she felt. Spending months getting bombarded, she had gotten used to it. Only this time, she stood with the victors.

  Locals had begun the cleanup. Many glared. Some spat slurs at the Americans and Salva militia—a few called Assiaya a traitor or a Slave Princess, saying whatever the enemy propagandists informed them to think.

  "Why do they hate us?" she asked.

  Smith pointed to a bulletin board. "Because of that."

  Assiaya read the note: wild accusations of genocide, environmental destruction, ethnic oppression—all without context. It was clear that the enemy was trying to soil the Altaerrie and her reputation quickly, before they could share the truth.

  "What is this garbage?" Murphy muttered.

  "Propaganda," Smith said. "We find them in every liberated town."

  "I did not expect Kallem to paint you as villains?" Assiaya asked.

  "Of course," Smith said. "The disturbing part is how much they know about Earth—our civil rights struggles, slavery, Nazism. But it’s distorted."

  “Surprising that they left out communism,” Murphey said. “Now, what is this mind-reading stuff? Like what happened with Matt?”

  "Possibly," Smith said. "But intelligence doubts it. Reading minds doesn’t mean understanding them."

  Assiaya nodded. "Intellectuia mages often say the same. Reading foreign minds is full of errors. Kallem wouldn’t know what mattered."

  "Which is why we suspect turncoats," Smith said. "Some POWs may have flipped."

  "Americans?" Assiaya asked, horrified.

  "Every war has traitors," Murphy said.

  "Just a theory for now," Smith added. "But you need to know. Understood?"

  "I was Kallem’s slave for six years," she replied coldly.

  Smith blinked, realizing the insult. "Point taken. Let’s head to city hall."

  As they moved through town, the damage reminded her of Salva’s early days. Aid stations treated locals and soldiers alike. Some townsfolk offered thanks—others threw insults.

  At city hall, rubble lay to one side. A vampire's body rotted in the sun. A Viking Sergeant gently pushed Assiaya along.

  "I wonder if he had family," she murmured.

  "Best not to dwell," Graham said. "It’s war. Politics be damned."

  "Rude," the voice commented.

  "The nature of war… I guess," Assiaya replied.

  A crowd gathered near a fallen statue—symbols of a foreign religion toppled by liberated citizens. They were all cheering that they could go back to their worship of Teklai, tossing aside the Katra. Some even started book burning, which nearly started a riot with those who supported the Unity, forcing American soldiers to intervene to prevent a rebellion.

  For Assiaya, with the enemy propaganda in full swing, she was thrilled that there was still some heart left in the world. During her darkest hour, she always turned to Mother for guidance and hope. Many in this war have abandoned their Goddess because the raw strength of the Katra was displayed; seeing that some refuse to give up, only brought them hope.

  That was when she saw Colonel Hackett emerge from City Hall with a Wood Elf and a female Yalate. Isrika tensed.

  "Nice to see you, Assiaya," Hackett said. "Hope the in-flight movie was good."

  She blinked. "It was... different. Thank you, Uncle."

  "Uncle?" the Yalate asked.

  "Later," Hackett said.

  The elf bowed. "Princess of Daru’uie, daughter of House Ryder. We surrender Iriskia to your House and the Altaerrie."

  "Thank you," Assiaya said. "So long as you do no harm, we won’t seek vengeance."

  "The ruling House fled," the Yalate said. "I hope my House may govern Iriskia in your name."

  "This has always been an Elven city," the elf said. "We are loyal. Remember that."

  The two nobles bickered for dominance. Assiaya turned to the silent Farian chieftain, remembering the promise her father made: elevate Isrika to nobility.

  She tugged Hackett aside. "I have an idea."

  He knelt. "Shoot."

  "I don't like neither nobles. Isrika helped Father during the siege. Maybe..., we reward him with the throne."

  Hackett smirked. "Because it’s wise—or because Kallem would do it?"

  She hesitated. "Because Kallem did. He would replace a House if he believed they were disloyal."

  "Intent matters. Loyalty deserves reward. Tell me your reasoning."

  "They want power. Isrika wants to help his people. I want leaders who won’t betray us."

  "Then make your call," Hackett said. "Just remember: choose leaders who reflect your ideals."

  Assiaya turned. The nobles watched, sensing her decision.

  "I’ve decided," she said.

  "Shall we wait?" the elf asked.

  "No need," Assiaya replied. "I elevate House Isrika to rule Iriskia."

  The nobles protested, flinging slurs and threats. Viking soldiers stepped forward, silencing them.

  Isrika stood stunned. "Are you sure, Princess?"

  "You’ve been loyal. Iriskia wronged your people. Now we must work together."

  She turned to the others. Their expressions betrayed fury.

  "I know you’re displeased. But your leaders led you to ruin. It’s time for change."